I was seeing till that thrones have been thrown down, and the Ancient of Days is seated, His garment as snow is white, and the hair of his head is as pure wool, His throne flames of fire, its wheels burning fire.

A myriad -- as the shoot of the field I have made thee, And thou art multiplied, and art great, And comest in with an excellent adornment, Breasts have been formed, and thy hair hath grown -- And thou, naked and bare!

and gathered together, the satraps, the prefects, and the governors, and the counsellors of the king, are seeing these men, that the fire hath no power over their bodies, and the hair of their head hath not been singed, and their coats have not changed, and the smell of fire hath not passed on them.